Sounds of Ringing Steel
by Aradellia
Summary: Sound is an important thing to Shepard, and she relies on it. What better to hear then the silent praises then her comrades, the thrilling echoes of the universe that surrounded her? She dances to the sounds of her worlds, moving through the world on a wave of noise, refusing to let her power be diminished because of her reliance on her ears.
1. Blades

It wasn't often she could find the time to hone an old skill, a stable of her ancient and forgotten training regimen. Stainless steel slipping through bloodied and tough fingers, sailing through the air in sharp lines, blurring through the air until stabbed into their targets, the glittering throwing stars and knives her extensions. She liked the feeling of the small objects, watching them sail through the aim and hit her targets with deadly accuracy. She could always remember the crowds as she practiced her knife throwing, and their awe at her speed and accuracy and deadliness.

The cargo bay wasn't the best place, nowhere close to what she had originally in training, in N-School, but she could easily make do with the cargo bay of the SR-1. A few crew members watched her cautiously as she set up several targets alongside the Mako. She rolled out her brown leather holder across a box, several gasps responding to the sight of her wide array of knives and blades. It was the old reaction, a normal one she didn't want anymore. They were on a warship, one that had seen conflict and death and blood. She couldn't understand why so many reacted with surprise when they saw her blades and abilities with it.

Three blades slipped from their sheaths, twirled effortlessly between her fingers. She contemplated their course, their targets. Readying her throws.

The elevator opened as she threw her blades, striking her subjects with her deadly throws, earning gasps from the audience. From the back of the group, hums of approval. Her eyes, dark and focused, the gaze of a predator, looked for those special among the group.

Ashley and Kaiden. They had gasped, she knew their voices. Liara, she had been among the few to gasp as well, though perhaps in more awe then anything.

Garrus. He hummed in approval, perhaps for the accuracy as accurate as his sniping. Wrex, the rotten man, was smirking.

She turned her eyes back to her shining extensions, her biotics flowing around her frame, the bright beauty of the blue force that made her an impossible storm to calm. Her smirk was deadly and fierce, her hands and wrists snapping out, her blades whirling around her in blurred lines of silver, a deadly storm of steel flying through the air. the crew stepped away in fear of her other hidden silver beauties blew from their leather bounds, swirling around her in wild, outrageous arches. She smiled, proudly and happily, as she showed her skills and power. She launched her blades back to the target, sending it flying in pieces as her knifes splatter and scatter across the metal ground.

Her crowd gave a resounding applause and hollers and cries of amazement.

All she could hear was the sound of her ringing steel blades, and the continued humming of approval from one curious turian standing by the elevator.


	2. Words

Silence surrounded the world around her, around the ship, drowning the crew. Virmire was a success and a failure, a victory and a defeat. She knew this war against the Reapers, against Sovereign and Saren would bring about casualties, but knowing she had to willingly abandon one of her crew, one of her best friends, so Saren's horrible work could be destroyed. Kaidan had disappeared immediately into his quarters, and the rest of the main crew scattered to mourn in silence.

She had done the same, but instead of moving to her cabin, she had crawled into the back of the Mako, and slammed her fists against the metal, crying out in pain and misery, her tears shed in violent shouting as her biotics crushed holes into the sides. She ended up crying out as loud as she could inside the Mako. Wrex had been here with her, but it seems just as she started using her biotics in her despair. Anger became unbound in a dangerous capacity, her pain coming out in fierce power masked as anger. The poor, beaten hunk of metal named the Mako suffered while its normally collected Commander shattered into sharp pieces of glass inside.

The elevator dinged once again, and she sobbed, curling into one of the back seats as she let her pain come free. It flowed freely much like the waterfalls of her tears, unable to stop the doors from opening up for her silent visitor. His first sight inside his beaten up vehicle is the sobbing commander, curled within herself, the glowing blue broken weapon. Losing one of her own, one she so carefully took care of, had cracked her too deep, too quickly.

"Shepard..."

His voice chips immediately at her shields, knocking them down as sobs louder, unable to hold back child-like disaster inside her chest any longer. From Mindoir, to Akuze, to Virmire, the pain in her tight chest simply was leaking through cracks, and the venomous floods had finally found enough to break through to poison her. The gentle clang of his plates hitting metal, he climbed within the dented machine, cautious in each movement, in each sound. He learned quickly of her affinity for noise. Tighter, the girl curled, longer the girl cried. A trembling hand reached out, a gentle three-fingered hand took it, pulling her to him. Wordlessly she went, the caring subordinate embracing his collapsing commander.

"As much as I know you probably feel a little better after unleashing your biotics," he murmured, "we need the Mako working too. Try aiming it at the giant krogan just next door."

His words brought a small, fleeting smile, one that brightened the air before dimming it as she let it fall.

"He left... before I could."

Gentle hands kept her steady, still, aiding in her relaxation though her spine was rigid. The beautiful glow of blue magic dimmed as she relaxed into his arm.

"I miss her."

"I do too, Shepard. I miss her too..."

"Help me."

"I'll be here for you as long as you need my help, Shepard. Just let it out. Now's your shore leave, Commander."


	3. Glass

They had done everything. Worked through despair and death, moving from planet to planet, horror show to horror show, saving lives and piecing together the dark matter puzzle Saren and his flagship Reaper, Sovereign. They finally had filled in the shatter, broken pieces of her visions, the message she would later learn was from the Protheans crying for help and a savior from the world-consuming force known as the Reapers. They had the proof, the final coordinations, the final stage for their battle against a man trying to spearhead the universe's fiery death, and they would finally get the chance to end the confusion and fear.

Everyone was too ambitious, from the moment they had finished.

The Council hated her ranting, her truth. They wanted her silence. Udina, the bastard that he was, wanted them to like him. Like a desperate child looking to join the popular table, he did their bidding like a lap dog. Locking the Normandy into her dock, locking up her systems, he had grounded her at the apex of their wars, silencing her voice and cries for help.

The Citadel was a loud place, but at that moment, Shepard could hear nothing but the silence. The dead silence that would come as Saren, the geth, Sovereign, and the other Reapers would bring upon the galaxy as they harvested them and rid them of their existences. Crowds moved through, their noise announcing their sizes for her, and all she could imagine was the empty walkways, the stench of blood and decomposing bodies, of the blaring cries of the Reapers as they called out their kills, their success in wiping out the universe.

She was lost in the swarm of nosie, the cacophany soon to be silenced by their leader's foolish naievity.

A glass was placed before her, the clink of glass on hard crystal, the slosh of the alcohol within the glass prison. Her eyes came to Garrus as he took the seat next to her with his own liquid courage. While his was the normal amber, hers was a cherry red. A smile found itself on her one hard set lips.

"A 'Cherry Bomb'. Smells weird." Garrus commented as Shepard took the glass, taping a sip through the included straw.

"I like cherries. They're sweet. Unlike the snack version, an alcoholic cherry bomb uses cherry vodka to make it sweeter instead of sugar."

"Which one is better?"

Shepard smirked. "The one that gets me drunk quicker. Though the snack one uses vodka too... not enough though."

Garrus gave a chuckle, raising her drink toward hers, the glasses meeting for the sharp but exciting collision of sounds.

"To your weird drink choices, Shepard."

She paused, looking at him. Her cheeks unknowingly took a pink hue. "To you, Garrus... for caring for me."

They drank, and talked away the silence, the noise of their scene coming back to her. Something about this calmed her, made her realize something.

If she were to be stuck here and awaiting her demise, she would want it to be with Garrus. Without him... everything was silent. No one heard her, and she would not hear them. They only saw her eyes, their haunting glaze. She could see, but her ears were forever her best sense. Mindoir, Akuze... she survived with some burns, and some amazing abilities added to her body.

She could hear his subharmonics, his second voice. He was happy.

She was happy with her turian.

"Garrus... this is really great."

"Really?" he honestly sounded surprised, "I didn't think you'd be alone while we sit and wait."

"Really?"

"I assumed Kaidan would be here for you."

Shepard looked to her glass, her eyes reflection sorrow, her reflection showing her pain. Kaidan took her rejection... roughly.

"No one from the crew showed. I assumed Kaidan went to the Sha'ira. Liara probably to Councilor Tevos. I just... I've been here in the silence."

Garrus looked around the bar for a moment, sighing and lifting his glass to her.

"Then I'll be here for you.I don't have anywhere to go, besides... spending time with you is nice."

"Sweettalker." Shepard murmured, throwing back the rest of her drink, "now the real question: who's picking up the tab?"

His mandibles flickered. She caught him red handed in the lie he hadn't even told her yet. He hid his face in failure behind his glass.

"I put it in your name."

"Remind me to pay you more so you can afford to pay for more of these drink dates, Garrus."

He raised his glass to her again. "As long as my boss doesn't mind the, uh.. dates changing locations sometimes."

"I don't think she'd mind it at all."


End file.
